Nightmares
by VexyJeanetteRaven22-6
Summary: The concept of nightmares in the Wayne household has long since been explored. This story follows the Wayne children-Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Barbara, Steph, and Cass-as they exercise the tradition that no one should have to endure nightmares alone.
1. Chapter 1

The time was late, past eleven PM, the only light coming from the stars and the bare glow of the new moon. The hills rose high, the valleys dropped low, and the plains rolled on. Cities stood tall, some sleeping, but the largest racing still. One such city was Gotham.

"Be careful tonight, Robin," he warned. "Our targets are lethal. You'll never see them coming from the shadows."

"I'll be careful, Batman." The boy promised. Wind and debris made the air hard to breathe, and he coughed. The older man waited a moment and then tousled the child's hair. "You'll do great. Come on."

They raced through alleys and across rooftops, until the black-suited man stopped his charge. "Look, Robin. What can you see?"

"A light on in that window," he said, looking up. "The place is falling apart-the pane on the window itself is shattered. Someone's right where they're not supposed to be."

"Yes. Our targets are inside-here, look through these binoculars." Batman handed him the black device and then began to move closer. "We can leap from this roof and break through the window. From there, follow my lead. And be silent until we get there."

Robin nodded, pressing his lips together and slinking forward. He shot a quick glance at the man leading him on as he did so. Just what was he thinking, bringing a child on this mission? The men they were about to fight were _assassins_! He leaped after his mentor, however, and crashed through the window of the dilapidated building ready for action. He was not ready, however, to see the face-his face.

Why did he have to fight the man who had killed his parents just weeks ago?

* * *

 _I was careful, swinging down to the ground and catching myself. I whipped around in time to see my mother emerging at the top of the ladder. She swung out to me, my father following and holding her feet. He was going to swing out and I was going to catch him-until the bullets flew. Twin pistols shot off and everything seemed to ricochet off of everything else. One shot snapped into the trapeze rope and my heart stopped._

 _My mother fell first, a free-fall to the ground where she landed, broken and unmoving. I knew she was gone and I screamed. When my father crashed down beside her I leaped to the floor, not caring I would have bruises later. I ran to their sides and watched my father take his last, rasping breaths. His lung was punctured, I could tell by the way he could hardly look up. He managed three small words to me before he joined my mother in the heavens. "I love you."_

 _A bullet grazed my ear and I screamed as shots rang out over my parents' bodies. A golden round came flying at my face, and it-_

Dick Grayson woke up crying. He shot straight up and pushed a heavy weight from his chest. He sobbed for a second, reliving the reality that his parents had died. He was an orphan, and it made him cry harder. The blanket was wrapped around his knees, and he pressed his face to it. Even when he heard footsteps in the hall, he couldn't keep his tears from rolling.

Bruce was going to bed. He had been up late-the fight with the assassin team had required a heck of a lot of paperwork. At the sound of his new son's crying, though, he stopped in his tracks. He waited outside the door, unsure of what to do. Hesitantly, he pushed open the mahogany. "Dick? Are you okay?"

The wealthiest man in Gotham had never had a child. He had taken the young boy in with no experience whatsoever with children. That was why he couldn't figure out how to say what he wanted, to comfort the child. The sight of Grayson's tears gave Bruce a lump in his throat.

He moved beside the boy, silent. He rubbed circles across his back until the tears stopped coming; Dick had cried himself out. "You're okay, kiddo. I got you."

A few more raspy breaths and Dick could speak. "I had a nightmare. . .."

"It's okay." Bruce took the young boy into his arms. "I've got you. You're okay."

"My parents. Again." The billionaire could relate. He was younger than this when his own parents were shot. Nightmares weren't an easy ordeal after something like that, and they never went away. Even after several decades of sleepless nights. "I know, Dick. I've been there."

The small boy was quiet, breathing in and out slowly. Bruce continued, "I lost my parents, too. But you'll be okay, it'll end up okay."  
He couldn't tell the boy things would instantaneously go back to the way they were, or even stop hurting. That would be a lie. He could say they would end okay, though, and for him they had. He held on tighter to Dick, whispering, "I won't let anything bad happen to you ever again."

"Do you promise?" The child looked into his eyes. He nodded, saying, "Remember the papers we signed?"

"So you could adopt me? Yeah." Dick settled down and listened. "They said I was responsible for you, remember? That means I look after you-and to me, I protect you with all I've got."

"I don't know how to do this." The child murmured. "Never had a home or anything like this before."

"I'm playing it by ear, too. Come on, you need to get some sleep." He laid down beside his son, who snuggled against the man's grey pajamas. "Would you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Of course." And that's just what he did, and why they woke up in the morning to each other, father and son forever.


	2. Chapter 2

Lightning crashed down on the roof of Wayne Manor. The sky was so dark, it looked like midnight at only seven pm. The newest member of the family, Jason, sat at the counter. He and his father were enjoying dinner while Dick had gone out on patrol. He was fifteen now, and had outgrown the Robin identity, passing it on to Jason. He had become Nightwing, with a bird-themed outfit like his "brother's," though it was blue and black.

Jason could hear the rain drumming on the covered porch. It sounded as if small rocks were being tossed across the tin. Bruce noticed, too, and it was loud enough to replace the need for conversation. The boy was glad-even though he had lived here for nearly six months, he still felt awed by Bruce Wayne. He hoped the man would stay like this, a few words here and there to address an issue or dispute. He wouldn't, though.

"Jason," Bruce spoke over the roar of the rain, "How would you like to watch a movie after this?"

"Depends on the movie," Jason replied. He was only a twelve-year-old kid, after all. He had his likes and dislikes. "I'd-"

Dick pushed open the kitchen door, drenched from the rain. Speaking of dislikes! He had a towel around his shoulders and his skin-tight Nightwing uniform was slick with water. The older teen said, "Hey, Bruce! How are you, Jaybird?"

"Don't call me that." The young boy growled. The acrobat was much too peppy for Jason. He only liked one thing about this Mini-Bruce: that he could call him Dick and everyone thought he was only using the boy's preferred nickname. Dick went on, "Ran into Poison Ivy, so I have to file casework over that tonight. Hallelujah for paperwork."

"I second. Can't they do it themselves, just once in a while?" Bruce laughed. When he lived on the streets, Jason hadn't known Bruce to be overly happy. He wasn't, around most people, but his older son had a knack for cheering him up. Jay listened quietly to the two chat. Bruce offered to wait the movie until Richard had finished his work and the man accepted. Jason groaned inwardly.

The boy went into the movie room and laid down on the couch. Maybe he could fall asleep and get out of having to listen to his adoptive father and brother talk over a movie. He pulled a pillow under his cheek and slipped into a dream, itching to get away from his new brother.

Dick couldn't understand. Why was Jason so intent on avoiding him the best he could? He told Bruce this when he was sure his brother wasn't listening in. "He never wants to do anything where I'm concerned. Did I do something to make him hate me?"

"You have to understand that this is a huge transition for him. He's been without a loving family his whole life and he relied on things we despise." Bruce said, and laughed. "Like stealing the Batmobile's tires."

They had a good laugh on how the boy had come into their lives. Dick realized something and stopped. "What if, maybe, he's just jealous of us? I mean, he never had a family. Here we are, father and son, and he feels left out."

"I guess it's a possibility." Bruce said. He turned it over in his head. "He might be."

They froze at Jason's scream. The duo raced to the child, finding him in the movie room, curled up in a ball on the couch. He shook violently, though his face was turned away from them. Bruce, from so many nights of caring for his older son, knew what to do. He sat down beside the boy and attempted to calm him. Dick took the child in his arms and rocked him while their father went to get a blanket.

"Shh. . . Jason, you're okay. Calm down, you're okay." He rocked again and again, and the child kept his eyes tightly closed. Bruce returned and wrapped the small boy in a fleece blanket Alfred had made. Jason leaned against his adoptive father's chest and breathed in deeply. "I'm okay. . .. You can go. . .."

"You're obviously not, Jay. Shh." His father held him for quite a while. He wondered what his younger son had dreamed of to make him so terrified. Dick took his brother and let Bruce get some popcorn for their movie. He kissed the child's head and was rewarded with a feeble swat. When Bruce returned, he relieved his older son of the burden. Jason was falling asleep and seemed to be getting heavier with every moment. Bruce contemplated carrying the child to his bed before starting the movie. Before he could, however, the half-conscious boy murmured to them, "I love you, Dad, Dick."

"I love you, Jason." Bruce kissed his head. He was too tired to protest, and he lay down across their laps to get some sleep. The last thing Jason heard before he slipped into a dream-state was his older brother whispering, "I love you, Jaybird. Don't forget that."

 _I won't,_ Jason thought to himself. And he spent the night dreaming about his family: Bruce, Dick, and Alfred. _I'll never forget._


	3. Chapter 3

When the clock tower in the city's center chimed one am, Batman came on the radio link. Batgirl had been staking out a warehouse in a seedier area of Gotham, so she was relieved to finally be called to go home. Of course, she had to stop in the cave first, but at least that was a safer place.

Nightwing always sent her heart into a frenzy and lit her cheeks up in a blush, so she would probably avoid him tonight. The new Robin was sweet, but he didn't really respect her like the others did. She'd probably keep away from him, too.

She snuck around the back of the warehouse to where she'd stashed her bike between some crates and pushed the motorbike out of the alley, starting it up in the street and speeding off. No one noticed her.

Her black helmet did nothing to restrain her long red mane. It fluttered behind her in the autumn air and she felt so free. She pushed her bike just a little faster, skidding around a corner and shooting off much faster than she was supposed to go.

54 miles per hour.

Her teammates had warned her about her habit of getting out of control on the bike. But her dad's creaky old station wagon didn't fulfil her need to go swiftly, and he'd never let her behind the wheel of his patrol car. She seized the opportunity that Batgirl got whenever she could, but it got her in trouble a lot.

She accelerated a little more and flew past an electronic speed sign, her cape flashing out behind her in a shiny black display. She couldn't read the neon lettering, she moved so swiftly. But it changed from its usual orange to a red color in an omen of what was to come.

78 miles per hour.

She was cutting through a slightly less sleazy area to get home, so she didn't expect any trouble. She felt lucky not to catch any cops or catcalling street racers. She sped on into the darkness, now entering an abandoned business district. It was eerie, seeing so many deserted buildings, but that meant empty roads. She could go even faster.

103 miles per hour.

She was a few miles from the forest where she'd have to slow down, so she sped up just a little more. She found herself leaning just to have the ability to turn corners, so she redirected her route. A straighter path would help her go faster.

The bike had limits, but Barbara had never reached them. She either got home before then or someone caught her. Today, however, was different. She'd picked an isolated route that was long enough. She'd see just what her little ride could do tonight.

144 miles per hour.

The speedometer went up to two hundred, but she doubted that it could go so fast. The little motor would give out if it went that fast. But she was so caught up with adrenaline tonight that she didn't have a care. She pushed on.

She'd just entered the forest on her way to the cave when things went wrong. She had just been going for too long, and the motorbike overheated. She tried to press the gas again and things caught fire.

157 miles per hour.

She saw the tree ahead right as she lost control. She screamed.

The next thing she knew, she was cradled against Bruce's chest, crying out in miserable wails. The white med bay of the Batcave spread out around her and she gasped wildly. Her mentor just held her tightly and stroked her hair back, waiting.

She sighed and looked up. He was still dressed as the Bat, but his cowl was pulled back and he smiled soothingly. She sighed and leaned against him for comfort. Bruce explained, "You got into a fight while on stakeout and they dosed you up with some kind of hallucinogen, so your nightmare felt real. I figured you would want to be somewhere safe when you came out of it."

She murmured her thanks and closed her eyes again, reliving the feel of wind and adrenaline. But the closeness of the cave, the familiarity of it all, was so much better. She vowed silently that she'd always come home, even if it meant sacrificing the freedom of speed for it.

And besides, it was amazingly nice to have someone holding her after a nightmare than having to sort it out herself like she would've at home.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been almost six months since he had last seen Jason. However much the young man despised him, Tim knew he loved him. They were brothers, after all. And speaking of brothers, Dick was ready to go on patrol. His Nightwing suit was tight against his skin, like Tim's Robin costume was. Bruce would join them in the cave soon and they could start on their nightly duties.

He knew by now that Jason Todd would never join them on patrol. The fearless man seemed to think he was stronger than them, or that they couldn't fight crime as well as he could. But Tim couldn't help hoping that his brother would join them someday. He would come running down the steps at the last minute, demanding that they wait for him. Jason never did.

The youngest Wayne child was assigned a solo mission tonight. He would walk the edges of the East End, what everyone now knew was Jason's territory. He fantasized about running into the Red Hood as he began his walk in the shadows.

As fate would have it, he ran into a gang of thugs almost instantly. There were seven of them, and Robin knew he would get beaten, and beaten quickly. He hadn't counted on someone coming to save him, however. Nightwing was far on the other side of the city and Batman would be farther, out of radio range. A silhouette dropped from a roof, slamming down onto the first of the criminals.

The Boy Wonder recognized the metallic red helmet his brother wore. Even more familiar was the rough tone of his voice, the rasp of post-Lazarus adding to his husky words. "Hey, Baby Bird. Nice to see you, too."

"I've missed you," Robin commented. He slashed out with his staff, protecting the violent vigilante. This action was rewarded with Red Hood knocking the last of the thugs out. The younger boy turned to his predecessor quietly. The man did not speak, just helped take the thugs to the police station, where Robin turned them in. After, on the front steps of the station, Red Hood turned to him. "I'm done with my patrol already. I'll walk yours with you."

"You sure? You can head home if you want."

"Nah. Besides, I think Daddy Bats just needed someone to cover ground. He wouldn't have sent you out otherwise." So the brothers began the trek across Gotham. It was everything Robin thought it would be, the pair working in tandem. At the end of their walk, it was nearing two in the morning. Red Hood radioed in to Nightwing, who picked up instantly. "Hey, Red. Have you seen Robin?"

"Yeah, he's here with me. Can I keep him for tonight, since we're already at my place and it's so late?" He asked. A silent, static pause meant their oldest brother was asking their father for permission. A moment later, the Bat himself came on. "If he wants. Bring him by in the morning and you can stay for breakfast."

"Thank you." Red Hood switched off his small black device and turned to his younger brother. "Come on, back to my apartment. You need some sleep."

"Okay." When they arrived, Tim Drake pulled his mask off. Jason threw down his helmet and offered a set of pajamas to his brother. "Thanks, Jay. Hey, can I ask a kind of. . . personal question?"

"Yeah."

"When. . .when you died, why didn't you come back to the Manor?"

The older boy, who was also undressing for the night, sharply turned. "I just. . .I didn't feel like I belonged anymore. I mean, you were Robin and the younger brother. They didn't need me hanging around, and they still don't."

"Yes, they do. Alfred's always talking about how you would do this or that with him, and Dick says he needs someone to talk to who understands. Not like me, because I sure can't help him with girl problems."

Jason was silent. He knew his brother was right, and if he turned his head to face the wall above Tim, he saw something that just affirmed it. Hanging on his wall was a small photo he'd tacked up. It wasn't noticeable, unless you were to walk up to it, especially in the shadows. But it showed Dick, Bruce, and Jason standing on a beach. Alfred had taken the shot, with Dick ruffling Jason's hair and Bruce laughing as the younger boy swatted him away.

 **R**

 _"Knock it off, Dick!" I screeched. He had been fluffing my hair backward, and now it waved in the ocean breeze. Dad laughed at both of us. "Stop it, you two!"_

 _A camera flash blinked and my eyes darkened for second. I flicked around to see Alfred holding up his camera. He wore a grey T-shirt and blue jeans; the most casual outfit I had ever seen him in. It was a nice change of pace. "Alfred!"_

 _"Ha! Got something nice for my wall," Dick rubbed it in. I pushed him, and he stumbled into the water. He somersaulted and shot out of the cold water. "Not cool, Jaybird!"_

 _He grabbed my ankles and pulled me off of the rocks. I tumbled in the freezing ocean, and laughed when I came up beside my brother. I splashed him with icy saltwater. "Nice move, Grayson! Now here's one of mine."_

Jason had been reimagining the scene at the beach when Tim shot awake. He was fairly silent, though his breath was ragged. The child was curled up on one side of Jason's bed. The older boy reached over and touched his shoulder gently, not saying anything. He set down the photograph on his night table and lay down beside his brother. "Hey, buddy, calm down. I gotcha."

"Sorry. I had a nightmare, I'm fine." Jason could relate. He didn't react, simply laid there with his younger brother and waited. The dream was gone like mist in the wind, and Tim suddenly threw his arms around his brother. "Thank you, Jason."

"Of course, Baby Bird. But promise me you won't tell the others."

"I promise, big brother. I promise."


End file.
